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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882239">Divination and Determination</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolvenStorm/pseuds/TheWolvenStorm'>TheWolvenStorm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fjord pov, Hurt and comfort, Missing Molly Hours, Post Ep 121, Tarot, background beauyasha, the Tomb Takers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:01:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolvenStorm/pseuds/TheWolvenStorm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Mighty Nein make their way towards Aeor with the Tomb Takers, a Blizzard overtakes their party. As Veth would say, this presents a probletunity. They have a chance to escape from Lucien, but only if Jester can keep all nine eyes on her. </p>
<p>"She sighs and puts the pencil down, turning around in his hold. He has to dodge her horns and she giggles, before settling against his chest. “I can’t focus anyway. I keep thinking about Molly... and Lucien.”</p>
<p>“I hate seeing him. It’s like he’s wearing Molly’s skin.” </p>
<p>“Yea. I just keep thinking about how Molly said they wanted to leave every place better than he found it. And now Lucien wants to… bring back this city. Molly would hate it. Hate knowing that they were somehow a part of that.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fjord/Jester Lavorre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Divination and Determination</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were a half day out from Aeor when the blizzard set in. One moment the sky had been clear, he had been keeping two paces behind where Lucien marched at the head of their column. Keeping watch, keeping his eye out. Keeping himself between the thing wearing Molly’s body and Jessie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next moment, a wall of White appeared on the Horizon. Someone had shouted in alarm but hadn’t been enough of a warning. It was on them in seconds. Cold slicing through him like knives. Stinging his cheeks and eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fjord,” her voice hoarse and whipped by the wind. He summons the Star Razor. It’s dark, despite the blindingly white snow. The sort of night that darkvision doesn’t help with. His sword glows with radiant light as he calls out for her. She hadn’t been that far away from him. Just a few steps away. He gropes through the darkness for her, finding the hem of her long bell sleeves and pulling her toward him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She stumbles into his chest, her fists balling up the edges of his coat as she regains her balance. “Fjord, we have to find Caleb!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s yelling, but he can hardly hear her. The wind whistles past them with such ferocity. Roaring in the small distance between her mouth and his ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right!” he shouts back, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they trudge through the deepening snow. The cold makes it hard to breathe. Makes sucking down air painful and exhausting. But he has her, and he’s not letting go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Caleb!” she screams out, cupping her hand in a cone around her mouth. Trying to make herself heard.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If they can get to Caleb, they can shield him from the wind. If they can do that, they can get the tower or the dome or something to wait out the weather.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A flash of heat erupts, melting snow in a circle in front of them in an instant. Wet, grey gravel crunching beneath their feet as they run to the figures huddled in the center of it. Veth’s braids and pink coat singed as she untangles herself from around Caleb. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You! Water people! Do something so we can get inside,” she screeches, already helping Caleb to his knees as he pulls out shards of stained glass and begins to arrange them on the ground. A thin layer of snowfall and ice already starting to slick the muddy ground.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What exactly do you want us to do,” Fjord growls back, tenting his coat over where the ritual is being drawn.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ice is water isn’t it!” Veth hollers back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie is already on it. Lifting up her hands to shape the snow.  A soft pink glow capturing the flakes. The ice quickly melts and refreezes into a thin wall of ice at Caleb’s back. But its not enough, the wind blows wildly, flinging frost in every direction. And a simple shapewater isn’t strong enough to hold it all back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He points the Star Razor into the storm, his own magic joining with hers to expand the wall and curve it around to give them more cover. Veth holds Fjord's coat over the ritual as Caleb curses in Zemnian and fumbles with the components.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fireworks spark and crackle and a black shape moves with determined haste in the distance towards the sound. Yasha running toward the fireworks and Beau. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And red eyes flare in the white.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A staff slams down on the ground and the wall of frozen water held by him and Jessie grows stronger. Caduceus steps into the small clearing they’ve created, Melora’s magic radiating out him, building the wall with each step.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How much longer, Mr. Caleb?” Caddy asks, his voice calm and reassuring. Not demanding haste or immediate results. As if a magic blizzard hadn’t just swept over them, threatening to bury them all in an avalanche of ice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Five more minutes.” Caleb replies, voice strained and tense in focus.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s doing his best. Don’t rush him!” Veth snaps.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t imagine it.” the firbolg reassures. “Just trying to gauge how long we need to hold it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie’s pink glow wanes before surging again, and he feels his own spell diminishing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll take turns Jess,” he reaches for her with his free hand. “Walls made, we just need to keep it up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods and shivers before snorting a giggle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing.” she smiles, a mischievous smile that brightens even this dark place. “We just need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keep it up</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop with the Dick jokes you’re distracting Caleb!” Veth screeches.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles and tosses a wink to Jester as her magic starts to wane again and he re-casts, taking over the shape water. “Don’t worry, Veth. We’ll keep it nice and firm for him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re both horrible.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester laughs harder than she has in days. And she’s beautiful and vibrant and radiant. Bringing an aching bloom of heat to his chest in spite of the cold. But her laughter dies as the Tomb Takers breach the circle of their protection. Her joy blanches in an instant, as soon as she feels those red eyes on her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. Well. Well.” Lucien starts. “Now I told you, Tyffial, they wouldn't abandon us out in the cold.” The man who is not Molly swaggers forward. “I am assuming you overachievers have a plan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ja” Caleb says, looking up from the ritual. Eyes hard and focused. “But I need time to work and our friends are doing all they can to keep the storm at bay for me. So if you do not mind-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all,” Lucien crouches down in front of their wizard, opening the coat that is not Molly’s coat, spreading it out in an attempt to further shield the ritual from the weather. “We’re a team now, are we not?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wings flap as Yasha flies into the center, carrying a shivering Bearegard. White feathered wings spreading wide before wrapping around Beau protectively.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why you don’t leave any skin exposed.” Fjord shouts over the wind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t contain my abs.” Beau jeers, her teeth chattering, not sounding nearly as brash as she usually does.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester rolls her wrists and the pink glow burns in the darkness as Caddy’s spell begins to fade. “I don’t have many more Fjord.” her violet eyes pleading.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll make it,” reaching out his hand for hers, offering a small squeeze. “We always do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The snow becomes too much for a few simple shape water spells to contain. Furious flurries of white whipping past, Veth working frantically to keep Caleb’s components in place as he traces arcane sigils in the air and on the ground. Lucien’s eyes, all of his eyes, watching with determined intent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And a doorway shimmers into existence, just as the glow from Jessie’s hands blinks away. He grabs her, tackling her through the door as the avalanche of what they held back collapses behind them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's always so jarring, stepping through that door. A faint wave of dizziness washes over him as his body moves from one plane to the next. Caleb had once said they become small when they enter the tower. Perhaps that's what causes the sensation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie moves underneath him, twisting to slip from his grip. Staring at the doorway as the rest come through one by one. Slurries of ice dripping from them onto the floor. He sighs with relief as Beau comes through, still in Yasha's arms and slowly pushes himself up before extending a hand for Jester.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb shakes the sleet from his coat and tosses it at one of the cats, who drags it away in a comical display. His arms crossing his chest as he stares at the Tomb Takers, who look up and around the tower with disbelief and disdain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord straightens himself and takes a place to Caleb's right, magic gathering in the bones of his hand. Readying the Star Razor in case of the worst. The rest of the Nein take their places at the ready. Beau slips from Yasha's arms to lean against her staff. Jessie comes to his side, her hand at the small of his back, her own magic pooling there. He feels it, that little extra guidance she offers so freely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Willkommen" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Caleb starts, "To our home. You will be our guests for the duration of this blizzard. Please make yourselves comfortable and I will show you to your accommodations."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"A most gracious offer, wouldn't you agree?" Lucien smiles to his compatriots, who still eye their surroundings warily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb nods and begins to float upward, Veth following at his heels.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just think </span>
  <em>
    <span>up,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Cadueces supplies before beginning to rise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien tilts his head curiously and steps forward, twirling a little as he floats with Mollymauk's impossible grace. Cree follows behind clutching her satchel to her chest, woefully unbalanced for a Tabaxi.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beau looks to him, and he nods and she joins the others upstairs. Spacing themselves out between the Tombtakers. Jessie squeezes his hand as she follows behind Otis, not letting go for a moment as she rises. Her fingers slipping from his as she floats beyond his reach.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Goliath, Zoran, follows her, and a violent smile smearing across their face as he watches Jessie float up. The Star Razor burns in his bones, but Fjord clenches his fist and waits till their entry hall is clear. With a glance to the raging blizzard outside the glowing door, he floats up after his companions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb doesn't forget a single detail. The cats run too and fro, pulling out beds from the doors along the sides of the great hall. Making the beds, spreading out blankets, fluffing pillows, unfolding privacy screens around a privy and tub. An extra large bed for the goliath is hauled out by almost a dozen fat cats, tugging it from the magical closet into the room with coordinated efficiency.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This is beyond generous, Mr. Caleb," Lucien remarks, amused by the stream of cats flowing at their feet. Cree seems... unsettled by the fey creatures. Hackles rising with each feline noise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wunderbar," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Caleb comments looks upward. "The level above you is our Salon, and above that is the dining hall. These are communal spaces, which you are welcome to. Beyond that..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We have no intention of disturbing your privacy." Molly's smile spreads wide. "After all... we are guests here.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I am glad we understand one another,” Caleb answers. Speaking with the authority of an almost-scourger. “If you have need of anything, food, a change of clothes, the cats will be able to assist you. Otherwise, I will be in our library shortly."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the call here, Cay” he asks, floating up to the bedroom levels with Beau. Jessie had made a hasty retreat to her bedroom as soon as she could. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It would be unwise to hide in our rooms.” Caleb answers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shows weakness.” Beauregard finishes his thought. “Makes them think we’re scared of ‘em.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly. I will be in the library once I have a moment to get out of these clothes.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hard same,” Beau cracks her knuckles. “Don’t tell anyone, but I still can’t feel my abs.” She smacks her stomach. “Fuckin numb.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t resist and slaps her hard in the gut, the force knocking the air out of her, and knocking her out of the floating column to crash on Yasha and Cad’s floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you, Fjord” she calls after, righting herself as Yasha looks on curiously. “Oh... hey Yasha, what’s up” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t hear the rest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Veth wants to go for our blood.” Caleb says as Fjord steps off on the floor he shares with Jester and Beau. “Cree has it. It's how they tracked us.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath. Tension coiling in his gut. It's not a bad idea. Who knows what the Tabaxi might be able to do with just a few drops of their blood. They can get ahead of the Tomb Takers again. Get to Essek. Come up with a plan to stop them from bringing back the city. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But its risky. Very risky.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jester would be best to run interference on Lucien.” Caleb notices Fjord freeze at the suggestion and puts his hand up in a gesture to keep him calm. “He has been watching her. I know it has not escaped your notice.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It hasn’t.” his answer is flat and cold and grinds between his teeth. How could he not notice. Even with eyes on the back on his neck, Lucien still turns around to watch her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She can do it. She just has to be herself and I have no doubt that all nine eyes will be on her.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“I--” </span><em><span>I promised your mother I’d keep you safe.</span></em><span> His eyes shoot to the amber necklace around Caleb’s neck.</span> <span>The necklace that holds</span> <span>Ves Derogna’s bloody corpse. And remembers the helpless drow they’d watch Lucien murder in a flash a red light. The mild threat that threads all his words. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“-Can Veth do it?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb nods solemnly. “She’s been sober since we started travelling with them. We’ve been waiting for an opportunity.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That explains why she’s been irritable, at least. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I fear for her safety too, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kapitän</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In much the same way as you.” Caleb’s voice is harsh and soft at the same time. A confession that Fjord needs time to process. “But we are at a great disadvantage, and we need to level the playing field. Or else things will get much worse.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>We have to stop the City Fjord.’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>her eyes were full of longing as she said it. In the moments after he’d kissed her. Like she wanted to run away with him. Like in another world, in a past life, in a different roll of the dice, she would have. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But she’s too good for that now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And so is he.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a long hard look at Caleb. The wizard’s harsh blue eyes softened in earnest fear.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You and I are both in that room.” he answers. And Caleb gives a single, solid nod. “And I want Yasha in range of the Goliath.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will arrange it.” Fjord nods and turns toward Jester’s room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fjord.” Caleb calls. “Bury your fear. They will smell it on you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The knock on her door is still a bit hesitant. The thing growing between them is still fragile and new. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who is it!?” her voice is faint through the door, as if she’s calling from a distant room in her suite. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fjord,” he hollers back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just come in!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s in her studio. Stripped down to her leggings and long shirt. Her heavy coat, skirts and boots in a lump on the floor by her bed. Tail low and swishing as she bites the end of her pencil and stares at a sheet.  A fey cat bats at bow tied to the end of it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Scram” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The cat, seemingly unaffected by his order, cocks its head to the side and sits on its haunches, before lazily walking past and hopping up on Jester’s bed. Curling up into a ball on one of her pillows. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww Fjord.” she pouts. “Don’t be mean to Cupcake.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you just making these names up?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She answers to it.”  Jessie shrugs and turns back to her picture. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind and rests his head atop hers. She reaches up and scratches at his beard, and he closes his eyes as he savors the touch. Her body is soft and strong and safe in his arms. He inhales the smell of her hair and the half finished hot chocolate precariously balanced on a stool nearby. Comfort. Warmth. Home. Her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And when he opens his eyes, the weight he carries seems a bit lighter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He glances over the paper tacked to the easel and he almost gasps. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jester-- This is amazing.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Fjord,” she demures. “It’s just a sketch though. It’ll go away when the tower goes away.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s terrible. This is incredible.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Yasha, or more specifically Yasha’s back. Not in the cartoony style of the sketchbook she shares with Artagan. But a style like the one rich people have in their houses. Yasha’s back in black and white, but with large blank spaces off to each side where faint wings are sketched. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know-” she starts, tapping her pencil against her lip. “-How Yasha’s wings like… attach to her. You know like… the musculature.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He nods his head on top of hers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And since she can only do it for a little while, I feel weird asking her to do it just so I can look.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can ask Beau…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I did. She started stammering and walked away.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds about right.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sighs and puts the pencil down, turning around in his hold. He has to dodge her horns and she giggles, before settling against his chest. “I can’t focus anyway. I keep thinking about Molly... and Lucien.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate seeing him. It’s like he’s wearing Molly’s skin.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea. I just keep thinking about how Molly said they wanted to leave every place better than he found it. And now Lucien wants to… bring back this city. Molly would hate it. Hate knowing that they were somehow a part of that.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That wasn’t something that Fjord had considered. He’d been too focused on the city itself, and how Cad had explained it as the antithesis of the natural order. Figuring out Lucien and his connection to Molly had been a factor, but it hadn’t been a motivation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But of course, that’s what matters to Jester. Preventing her friend’s memory from being tarnished. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “We won’t let it happen.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he tells her the plan. And asks her to do the impossible. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The map spread out on the Salon table is a prop. A figment of the tower that will disappear with a snap of Caleb's fingers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or a flash in Lucien's eye. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he stares at it all the same. Marking the path they've taken the past few days of travel. Landmarks, geologic formations. It's useless really. In another life, he might have suggested selling the updated version to a map maker on the coast. But that’s too dangerous now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And they can’t risk whatever infected that underground forest to spread further. Especially if Cad’s suspicions are correct, and the rot in the Savalier wood is the same rot that consumed those trees. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not that it was much of a risk anymore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie burned it to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She bounces through the library. Dressed in her old dress. The long draping sleeves tinted with pink. Her winter gear is packed away into the bag of holding, all of the Nein’s gear is. Fey cats had spent the better part of a day scurrying through the pipes with their clothes and weapons. Out of sight of the tomb takers. Stashing it in a place that’s easy for them to grab when the moment comes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If it comes.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien sits in the center of the Salon, lazily, ominously flipping through a book. Not really reading, but watching. Watching everyone in the tower all at once. Watching Caleb scratch at the back of his neck as he folds over some archaic formula. Watching Beau and Yasha on the second floor as Yasha tells Beau and one of the fey cats about the best way to cook snails. Watching Cad meditate at the entrance hall three stories below. Staring out into the violence of the winter winds. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester skips to Lucien’s table. Arms full of her sketchbook, and other supplies. He looks on curiously, a small smile quirking his lips as all her things spill out in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s all this, my dear?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gods it sounds just like Molly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So I was thinking about what you said the other night…” Jester answers, hurriedly picking up and organizing small vials of ink and sorting through the papers that have become dislodged from her sketchbook. “You seemed to say that you didn’t like the tattoos Molly put on you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien frowns. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That aberration marked me. Painted me up like some kind of freak.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord has to hide his wince at Lucien’s words. Molly was a freak, yes. Proud of it too. But the way Lucien spits the word out using Molly’s voice makes something violent lash inside of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…” Jessie extends the word as long as she can. No doubt hiding her own shock and pain. “I know how to tattoo.” She pulls the needle and kit out from the mess of supplies. “I was thinking that maybe I can try to cover some up. Or maybe give you a new one. One that’s yours.” She slides over some of the quick sketches she made. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien stares at her for a long moment. Molly’s red eyes unblinking as he tries to peer into her soul. Before he reaches for the pages and studies them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re quite talented.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” and gods he can hear how bright her smile is. The corner of his eye catches her tail. Drawing happy figure eights in the air behind her. “I paint too. Once I-uh- I have this paint. It’s special. The Traveller gave it to me. I don’t have alot, but it can make things kind of real. And I painted a dress. I was pretending to be a high priestess of the MoonWeaver.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien’s eyebrow cocks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t a good idea.” she blushes. “It almost ended pretty badly. But...anyway. Do you like any of them?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The papers continue to flip through the purple tieflings hand. But as the tension seems to ease into something more comfortable he notices something… odd. Lucien’s tail seems to sync up to Jester’s. Low and swishing in long lazy arcs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Molly used to do that with Jester. The movements of their tails would begin to match in the quiet moments they were together. Sitting at a tavern bench giggling and plotting mischief. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“To be frank-,” Lucien starts, leaning back in the chair.  “I’m not quite sure I’d trust a cover up to not look like nothing more than a black blob of ink on the side of my face.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fair.” Jester giggles. “It’s bit- well...alot.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s sayin’ something.” And there is a genuine smile in Lucien’s voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What about for you?” Jessie asks, opening to a blank page in her sketchbook. “You know something to like… reclaim the body as your own. Leave your own mark.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I’d never thought about getting a tattoo myself.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well what do you like?” She sits poised, pencil waving as she speaks. “Was there like something from your home? Like a flower or like a landmark that you really liked? Or maybe something from one of your adventures? Or the Order?”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien pauses, seemingly shocked by the question. His mouth opens to speak... But he closes it. Red eyes searching for an answer to the simple question. As if he can’t remember any of the things he likes. But he gathers’ himself, that same cocky deflective smile smearing across his face. “What’s yours?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mine!?” she gasps in mock admonishment. “You really shouldn’t ask a lady such things…” Teasing him, even as she starts to undo the ties at the corner of her shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean no disrespect.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester snorts a short laugh as she gets the knot free and loosen the dress around her shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the Traveller’s cloak.” She shimmies a little so the diamond dust glitters. “Because he’s always with me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Even now?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Always.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t see him.” A small challenge lacing his words. A small threat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester only shrugs. “Maybe you’re not looking in the right places.” A fey cat walks by, meowing at Jessie. The cat that she keeps in her room with her. “Oh Cupcake. Will you get me some more hot cocoa and…What kind of treats do you like?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien’s mouth hangs open for a second before answering. “I’m fine.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” she lets the word hang “If you're sure... I mean the cats can make anything you could ever want. They even made a bug pie for Yasha. So… literally anything…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you're having then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm. So, Hot Cocoa with cinnamon and… Churros. Thank you cupcake.” She smiles sweetly, and returns to her sketchbook. “So what do you think?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“About what? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“About your tattoo, Lucien.” Jester giggles, “What do you think? I wouldn’t draw a dick on you. I swear on the Traveller. Pinky promise.” she holds out her pinky to Lucien expectantly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A knot coils in Fjord’s gut at the gesture. No-one said anything about her </span>
  <em>
    <span>touching </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lucien. What if he touches her and then can see through her. What if he’s seen through her all along and now that he has the opportunity to get his hands on her, she’ll end up like that helpless drow beneath A2. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He feels the coolness of the Star Razor. The ice flecks bonded to his soul. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate it.” Lucien answers, clasping his own pinky around hers. “But I don’t think I’ll be taking the offer.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough” she sighs, shrugs and begins to gather her things.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No. Veth hasn’t given the signal yet. It’s not time. Fjord’s eyes flick up as Yasha moves away from Beau, circling around to where the Goliath, Zoran, snores on his oversized bed a floor below them. Beau descends the ladder, hopping to sit cross legged on Caleb’s table. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester’s surprised yelp almost sends the Star Razor into his hand, but he leashes it as he sees the papers scatter over the floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stupid Tail.” she mutters, bending over to pick up the leaflets of her sketchbook. “Stupid Statues” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To his surprise, Lucien is the one who moves to help her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” she murmurs. “We found these creepy statues that sucked like five years of my life away, and now my tail is longer and… I don’t have the same…” she flicks the spade of it as if shrugging. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s different.” Lucien finishes for her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea. My horns are longer too, and they keep snagging on the things.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The older you get, the easier it will be to adjust when they grow.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thats Molly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Fjord realizes. It's how Molly would treat Jessie. A little paternal, a little protective. Teaching her how to be tiefling while travelling in places where their kind are looked on with suspicion and disdain. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what my momma said.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester pops up from the floor, plopping her stuff back down just as ungracefully as before. Lucien takes a bit longer. Studying an object in his hand. Fjord spares a glance to notice that it's one of Jester’s Tarot cards. Not the ones she had from Molly. But one of the ones she made herself. The ones she made for everyone who matters to her. The ones that hold the lessons she’s learned from the people she loves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien turns it around in his hands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this one missing from the deck?” he asks, more than a little curious. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no. That one’s mine. The deck I gave you belongs to you. But I drew my own deck.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The purple tiefling stares at the card for a long minute. Silent and still. Lost in thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do another reading for me.” he pushes the card back into her hands. “With your deck. Not his. His is tainted.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ummm.” Jessie swallows at his demand and sudden mood swing. Sounding very small and a more than a bit scared. “Sure. Ya. Give me a minute.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord glances at her tail, checking to see if she actually has something to be afraid of. And chastises himself at the thought. Of course there’s something to be afraid of. This whole thing is something to be afraid of. Where the hell is Veth? What’s taking her so long to get a few vials of blood? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Jessie’s tail still swishes steadily and slowly. Controlled and sure as she shuffles her deck and fans out the cards for Lucien.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pick three cards and place them anyway you want them.” her voice has dropped low. Less musical and giddy. Somber in a way that it so rarely is. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien doesn’t take his time. Choosing his first two cards quickly and carelessly.  Acting like Fjord does whenever Jester offers to do a reading. But there’s something a bit too focused in his movements. A bit too nonchalant. His controlled demeanor seems to break as he draws the third. Reaching and withdrawing his hand twice before settling on one and then spinning it, indecisive on which way he wants it to face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally he lays it horizontal to the others. A smug smile crossing his features. But Jester doesn’t react. Only stares across at him for a long moment. Her shoulders swelling and rolling back as she inhales deeply. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The first card represents the past.” She says determinedly, and flips the card over. “Bondage and Freedom.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord knows the cards well. She’s practiced on him so many times. He’s watched her draw them, in taverns, in the tower, on watch. Her deft hand pouring meaning into the ink with faith and love. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This one is Yasha. </span>
  <span>Black and White with dark blue details. Her feathered wings and the necrotic shroud. "Bondage" and "Freedom" written in an elegant script on either end of the card. A Chain borders it, only broken on the side of “Freedom”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The chain is unbroken on the side that faces you.” Jester explains. “It could mean that there’s something that held you back. Something that kept you away from your full potential. Something that kept you trapped. Something that kept you from finding joy in life.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien twitches slightly, and bites on his thumb nail. Staring at Jester and at the card for a long minute. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Next card.” he orders. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The Drowned Man.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a card he knows all too well. It’s the card Jessie drew for him. A green orc desperately swimming towards the surface as tentacles drag him beneath the waves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This card might seem like the last one. But It's different because sometimes what imprisons us is inside ourselves. Whereas this one-” she taps the new card. “-The drowned man is about someone or something controlling you. Something powerful that you can’t fight against. Someone manipulating you, using you to their own ends. And how you are either fighting to break free, or surrendering to its will.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien stares that card, at the black mass of tentacles representing Uka’toa. And Fjord has to swallow down a gasp as he realizes how stupid he’s been this entire time. The Somnovum are from a Mageocracy. Not just any Mageocracy, but the most powerful mages of all time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Lucien is not a mage. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His blood magic is powerful. But if there is anything Fjord has learned about powerful mages, its that they always have another plan in mind. They always use people to further their own ends. Trent, Vess, The Cerberus Assembly, Yussa, Essek. Even Caleb has to fight that instinct. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien is a puppet on a string. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Last card.” Lucien growls. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester flips the card and a sneer smears across Lucien’s face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Creation and Destruction” she explains. “Taking nothing and turning it into something. Taking something and reducing it to nothing.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Molly and Lucien. On one side, Molly’s coat. Multi-colored, vibrant, patchwork. On the other, the city. Monochrome, foreboding, dull. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You put the card on its side.” Jester whispers. “I think that means the future hangs in the balance. That whatever happens can turn out either way.” She shrugs and looks at Lucien. “That this can all end with something beautiful, or horrible.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie pauses, and reaches across the table for Lucien’s hand. “And I think it's up to you to decide.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien stares at Jester’s hand for a long tense moment. It’s quiet in the Salon. Fjord can hear his heart beat. See Caleb frozen in terror. Beau tensing in anticipation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have asked-” Lucient starts. “-So many times. And I have never gotten a straight answer from any of you…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t asked me.” Jester counters. Calm. Kind. Honest. “You can ask me. I’ll answer.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His red eyes flash up to meet hers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want from me?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The question is strained through his lungs. Desperate. Pleading. Broken. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester scoots across the chairs, never letting go of Lucien’s hand. Moving to sit next to him on the small table. Bringing them close. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Molly was… the kindest person I ever met. They wanted to leave every place better then they found it. Make every person they met happier. Even if it was just a little bit. Even if it was something that would go away in an hour. And they died... trying to save me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And you want them back,” Lucien spits. "Is that right. You're just waiting around to figure out how to do it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester shakes her head. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss them. But I don’t think there’s a way for them to come back. Not even if your body somehow was…. </span>
  <em>
    <span>emptied </span>
  </em>
  <span>again. No.” She takes a deep breath that waivers as she exhales. “But the reason I’m here is because of them. Because they would look at you, and they would see someone who's lost and alone. Who’s being manipulated by powerful people. Who's scared and broken and needs a friend.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And Molly would try to help you.” Jester takes the hand holding Lucien’s and wraps it with both of hers. “And since they aren’t here, I’ll do my best in their place.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Lucien stares at her, his body trembling ever so slightly. Red eyes wide and full. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me help you, Lucien.” she pleads, squeezing his hand. “Let us help you. We can stop this.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord looks to Caleb who returns his stare. Hoping beyond hope that the wizard can somehow pick up on his thoughts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Call it off. Please call it off. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien whispers something in Infernal and Jester nods back answering in that secret language only they know. And she smiles, bright and beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>“FLUFFERNUTTER!” </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie’s smile dies. And Fjord’s heart sinks to his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> It happens so fast. Cree’s satchel holding all the vials of blood sails up and over the edge of the salon, and Caleb springs into action. Heat and sulfur fill the air as a fireball hits the leather pouch, incinerating it in an instant. Beau jumps from Caleb’s table down onto the other tomb takers below, catching a volley in her fist from Otis. Yasha’s grunts of exertion are coupled with another’s and he knows that her and the Goliath have started coming to blows. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Lucien… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien is shocked still for a second. His eyes, all of his eyes, open. Emotions fly across his face. Shock turns into disgust turns into anger turns into hatred as his eyes narrow on Jester. Yanking his hand away from her, standing above her.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I meant every word.” she rises slowly, with her hands held up in surrender. “I want to help you. I just--” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You just </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘what</span>
  </em>
  <span>? ” he sneers, slicing his obsidian blades up his back as he withdraws them. His blood slicking the edges. Dripping onto the carpet of the Salon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another fireball erupts close by throwing Cree and Tyffial back down to the Grand Hall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“-I can’t let you hurt my family.” Jester confesses. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scimitars slash. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Fjord promised he’d protect Jessie, an oath more vital and more holy than the one he holds with the Wildmother. A pact to another mother. A promise he will always keep. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And so the Star Razor bites into the black bloody blades. Intercepting them before they hit her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was once a time when he and Molly were about as strong as each other. They could wrestle and spar and be fairly equally matched. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But that was before. And Fjord is much stronger now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pushes Lucien back, interjecting his body between Lucien and Jester. Whatever blood magic, whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘gifts’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Somnovum have offered, need to go through him first before they touch Jessie. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“ANYTIME NOW!” Beau shouts from below. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Veth appears from no-where and fires a cross bow bolt at Lucien. The broadhead splitting in half as the tiefling deflects it with a scimitar</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A split second distraction, but just enough. Fjord pulls Jessie in and Star Razor Pulses as a thick fog fills the Salon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Jester transforms into her giant owl form in the mist, picking up Fjord, before diving down after Cadeuces. Yasha and Beau follow in their eagle forms. Picking up Caleb and Veth as the mist begins to clear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Throw everything you can!” Caleb shouts as the tower begins to crumble around them. “He can’t dispel it all!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fireballs stream behind them as the birds race to the light and the cold of the blizzard. Eldritch  Energy gathers in his shoulder before shooting down in his arm toward Lucien and the Tomb Takers as they collapse out of the tower. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But soon they are obscured by the blizzard and he holds on tightly as the birds try to climb above it. Keeping a grip on Caduceus. On the bag of their gear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then the sun appears, bright and cold above Eiselcross.  And there’s nothing more to do but hold on and hope they made the right choice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They land about a half mile away from the Kryn base of the Aeorian ruins. Jester shrinks down to her normal self, but seems to shrink even small. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cad holds out their bag of holding with all their winter gear. “You know… I wish you all had told me the plan.” he states as Caleb fishes out his coat and scarf. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are a bad liar my friend.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes you don’t need a liar.” Cad answers as Fjord summons his gear and Jessies. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s nothing more to say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He holds open Jessie’s coat for her and she silently wraps herself up. She feels heavy. Her emotions swarm around her like a storm and-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He asked her to do it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jessie, can you message Essek and let him know we are here?” Veth interrupts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t answer only nods and looks to Fjord. Her violet eyes are watery and pleading for something he doesn’t know how to give her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he sighs and holds up his hands and counts for her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Essek, we are almost there. Can you have the guards let us in? We’ll tell you everything once we’re in person.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t even use the last four words. No nonsense noises. No silly song. No hyper invasive ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you pooping?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s says he’s been waiting for us.” a small smile flitters across her face. “And he has pastries for me.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord manages a smile back at her as they start trudging through the ice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not gonna tell him everything though, right?” Beau asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Caleb answers. “We can’t trust him.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That stops Jessie in her tracks. She’d been a storm of emotion their entire march. Not looking at anything but her boots and straight ahead. But now she turns to face the group. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But he trusts us…” she says. Anger and resolve filling every syllable. “He’s made mistakes. But he trusts us, and we shouldn’t abuse it. And he’s our friend and he can help us.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He started a war, Jess-” Beau starts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I agree with Jester.” Cad replies, turning around to stand with her. “He’s done bad things in the past, yes. Awful things. Unforgivable things. Things he’ll pay for for the rest of his life. But what defines him from this point on is the choices he makes now.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb and Beau look at each other then to Veth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what we should say or shouldn’t. I just know we need help to stop Lucien. And Essek is who we have.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasha?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yasha shuffles her feet. “Essek is very powerful. He helped Caleb with Veth. Maybe he could figure out a way…” she kicks some snow. “A way to get Molly back.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beau’s shoulders deflate as she turns to Fjord. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cap?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a long breath. “Jessie says Essek trusts us. Trust is a two way street. He needs to earn our trust back, and this is his chance to do just that. Prove he’s changed.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And if he unleashes the City.” Caleb counters. “If he takes all that knowledge for himself.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then it will destroy him-” Jester answers. “Just like it's destroyed Lucien.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And there's no arguing with that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Essek meets them and she practically runs to him. Wrapping her arms around him in a hug that he awkwardly returns. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come, let us go inside.” he urges after a brief round of greetings. “And you can tell me how you ended up in this awful place.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Kryn barracks are everything the Empire’s isn’t. No scattering of tents, but solid constructed shelters. Essek leads them to the largest of the small buildings, where a fire is roaring and a plate of pastries await Jester. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Our cook was thrilled to make something other than the -ah- standard fare. So please help yourself.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie smiles and greedily snatches a few. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So now,” Essek starts. “Jester implied you were in trouble. Will you tell me more? I will do what I can.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beau looks to Caleb, who looks to Jester. Jessie bites into a pastry and nods.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> And their wizard sighs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My friend. We are in dire need.” And Caleb tells him everything. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord didn’t notice Jessie slip away to sit closer to the fire at first. Only noticed later after he caught Cad looking over his shoulder, and the heavy exhale that only meant the firbolg was deep in thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Essek and Caleb and Beau are in the thick of it. Trying to tie the pieces of what Essek’s discovered in Aeor to the pieces of info they’ve gleaned from Lucien and their delves into the ruins. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Which means he won’t be missed if he slips away as well. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie is curled up. Hugging her knees on the thick padded chair that Essek </span>
  <em>
    <span>somehow </span>
  </em>
  <span>managed to bring to this frozen hellscape. Tear tracks line her face, reflecting in the firelight as he kneels in front of her. Offering up another pastry. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles. A half hiccup of a smile as she reaches out for it, setting it aside with another half-eaten one next to the fire. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Jessie. We should have-” he stops himself. “-</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> should have never asked you to-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head and takes his hand in hers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He reminds me of you.” Her thumbs graze over his knuckles. “Of how you were when we were pirates. Lost and confused and scared. Not knowing what Uka’toa was. Not knowing the price you paid.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It makes his heart ache, how broken and small her voice is. Full of shame and grief and despair. And he doesn’t know what to do with it, other than press a kiss to the knot of their fingers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It should give me hope right?” Jessie holds back a sob. “You found your way. It should give me hope that he’ll somehow find his too." The tears start to flow again and her whole body shakes. “But he won’t. He’s so angry. So much pain. And now there’s not even a chance.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She reaches for him and he catches her as she slips off the chair onto the floor with him. Wrapping his arms around her as she buries her face in his chest and sobs. The harder she cries, the tighter he holds her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jessie, I’m so sorry.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We could have found another way…”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault.” she lifts her face and wipes away her tears. “I was hoping I could find Molly.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you find them?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester nods. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea. I mean...look at him. They’re the same. Molly and Lucien. Just Molly grew up in a circus and Lucien…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord nods because she doesn’t need to finish. He knows enough of what its like to be a poor orphan kid in this world. Port Damali was bad enough. Shady Creek Run is worse. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her face screws up as another wave of tears threatens to take over. “It hurts. Because it means that Molly is really gone. There’s no way to get them back.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit in silence for a long time. Offering what small comfort they can give each other in the few moments of peace they have. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lifts his head to the sound of Yasha’s boots carefully approaching. She looks to him for permission and he grants it with a nod. And the large woman crouches down to get to Jester’s level and wipes away a tear with her thumb. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were so brave.” she whispers. “I don’t know if I could have.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jessie only offers a small smile back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we’ve come up with a plan, I can tell you later if you’d rather-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Jester says extricating herself from his arms, rubbing her eyes as she stands. “I want to help.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yasha helps Fjord to his feet and gives him another nod as she turns back toward the rest of the group. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ya,” she reaches back for the pastry on the small side table and shoves it in her mouth before taking his hand, and rejoining their friends. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We fucked this one didn’t we.” Caleb admits atop the wall as they stare out over the horizon. Looking out for any sign of the Tomb Takers following them. The sky is dark above them. A crystal clear night. “He’ll be even angrier now.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We had to get out.” Fjord answers. “But yea, we fucked it.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Scheisse</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Caleb snaps his fingers and Frumpkin appears. The cat curling around his shoulders and purring. “How is Jester?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mourning Molly.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We never talked about it. You know, after.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord sighs and leans up against the wall. “What’s there to say? Our friend died.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was my half baked plan that got them killed.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And it was my ass that got captured in the first place. And Yasha. And Jessie. It’s not your fault. It’s none of ours. Only person who is at fault was that fucker Lorenzo, and he’s dead now. So stopping looking for reasons to hate yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb is quiet for a long time. Petting his cat. Staring out at the vast expanse of Eiselcross. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were right about Essek.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jessie was right about Essek. I just trust her instinct.” Fjord counters. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You love her.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It isn’t a question. It’s a statement of fact. One that he doesn’t feel the need to answer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You should tell her. She deserves to know. Who knows how long we have.” Caleb pats his shoulder as he disappears back inside. Leaving Fjord alone on the wall with nothing but his thoughts and the looming blackness all around. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out a breath and stretches, before burying his hands in his pockets, only to find something unexpected. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fortune telling never made much sense. How one is supposed to find meaning in something so trivial is beyond comprehension. But as he stares at the card, at the representation of himself fighting toward the surface, at the writhing mass of tentacles, at the shore waiting for him, at the card saturated with ink and love, his path has never been more clear. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well well welll... Look who squeezed in her Molly/Lucien Carnival Mirror Theories into a fic right before canon can prove her wrong. </p>
<p>It was me. I did. </p>
<p>If you liked pls leave me a comment, as I a trash goblin who feeds on praise. <br/>If you have alternative Molly/Lucien theories I will listen but... I'M RIGHT. :D </p>
<p>Sleeper Agent, your code word is CHICHARONES <br/>Do what you gotta do.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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